


Gritty and Bleeding

by hunters_retreat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark Sam Winchester, John Finds Out, M/M, Raised Apart, Reunions, Sam Raised by Demons, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-17
Updated: 2008-09-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 11:03:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunters_retreat/pseuds/hunters_retreat
Summary: Sam disappeared from school when he was 9 years old.  Dean has lived half his life without Sam.





	1. Half a Life

 

 

 

 

He was nine when it happened.  Nine and taller than any of the boys in his class which Dean remembered being very proud about at the time.  Nine years of dragging Sammy around with him, looking after him and caring for him when no one else would; when no one else could because their father was too broken to do anything more than mourn and hunt and Dean was too broken to do anything but try to put the pieces of his family back together.  Nine years and he had gone to pick Sammy up from school, just across the street from his own school, only there was no little brother to get. 

 

 

When he was seventeen Dean had his first dream about Sammy.  “It’s Sam.”  The young man in his dream had said with a smile.  He ran a hand self consciously through his hair and smiled up through thick lashes and Dean smiled back.  He knew it was Sammy, knew the gesture and the eyes even if the rest of the body was mostly different.  His hair was longer than Dad had let it grow when he was nine, but his smile was the same too.  There was something about his smile, like he was so happy his whole body lit up when he was smiling.  The next morning he’d woken happy, almost like he’d slept in someone’s arms, someone loving and safe and caring.  He hadn’t felt that way since Sammy had been taken.

 

 

It was just a dream though and Dean knew that.  It was worse when they were nightmares.  Sometimes Sammy was begging him to make it stop, to make the Yellow-Eyed Demon stop torturing him, to make it all stop hurting.  Sometimes Sammy just begged Dean to leave Dad and come get him but he never said where he was because Dean would have.  Those mornings Dean woke up feeling like he hadn’t slept at all and he snapped at everything around him.  Even John learned to tone down his orders on those days.  No matter how important the hunt, if he pushed when Dean was recovering he knew Dean would walk away for a couple days and return when he was good and ready.  He never knew why, just learned to see the signs and deal with it.  Acceptance was something a Winchester could do.  Talking about what was causing it though?  Not so much. 

 

 

In his dreams Sammy talked about places in the world he’d seen.  Dean told his little brother about his conquests and hunts.  They didn’t talk about Dad or the Yellow-Eyed Demon or even the nightmares because if Dream Sam wanted to talk about it, Dean was sure he’d bring it up.  Sammy had never been quiet about anything in his first nine years of life and he doubted if his Dream Sam would be any different.

 

 

Of course there were some differences in how he thought Sam would act after all these years.  Odd ones.  Dream Sam would touch him more often than Dean was completely comfortable with.  His hands would reach out and stroke at Dean’s arm or back or thigh at odd times and whenever they embraced he pulled in too tight, held on too long.  But he’d been without his brother for four years and he figured it was just a result of that loss, some inner struggle to deal with all the things he’d missed in that time, like putting Sammy to bed each night and feeling his warmth in his arms as he fell asleep. 

 

 

Dream Sam shied away from certain things also.  He didn’t like to hear hunts about demons and didn’t want to know the incantations or exorcisms that Dean wanted to talk about whereas his little brother had wanted to know everything as soon as he’d learned that the thing under his bed could very well be real.

 

 

It never stopped Dean from having the dreams though and certainly didn’t stop him from wanting them.  Even if it was all in his head, he liked that he could talk to Sammy.  They’d never really stopped hoping he’d come back to them some day, in fact John had become as obsessed about finding the Yellow-Eyed Demon as much to get Sam back as to avenge his wife. 

 

 

Because they both knew that nothing human had walked out of the school yard with Sammy that day.  He would have screamed.  He would have kicked and fought until there was some sort of sign of it on the school lawn where he’d been left by John and Dean before they’d gone their own ways.  Something supernatural had taken Sammy and considering the way their mother had died, it was no coincidence it had come for Sammy once again.   

 

 

The dreams stopped when Dean was 26 and he hated the absence.  He didn’t know why it had stopped suddenly and he felt lonelier than ever.  John was hunting on his own most of the time and Dean was too tired fighting his old man to care as much.  It felt like Sam had deserted him a second time, and while he knew it was just being alone that bothered him, it made him feel guilty for blaming Sammy all the same.

 

 

They were in Oregon hunting werewolves together and had actually managed to do it with little harm to one another.  John was smiling at Dean and Dean was laughing because his Dad had managed to get mud all over his brand new shoes and kept scowling and commenting about ‘breaking them in properly’.  He’d forgotten the date and John had taken them back to the motel, made sure they scrubbed up clean and taken Dean to the nearest dive bar in town.  It wasn’t until they sat down, beer and a shot each, that John smiled, tapped his shot glass to Dean’s and said “Happy Birthday Son.” 

 

 

Then Dean remembered.  Twenty seven years.  He had officially lived half his life without his little brother.  Technically, he knew it wasn’t true, because he’d lived without Sammy for more since he hadn’t been born until he was four, but part of him always felt he’d carried Sammy around in his soul before that.  So twenty seven was a big number for him.  It explained why John had made sure to be there to celebrate it with him.  He appreciated the gesture, but he would have rather been alone in his room for this specific revelation.  He’d have rather celebrated with Jose and Jack and a skin flick on the tv, but that wasn’t happening tonight so he smiled instead and raised his shot.

 

 

“Thanks John.”  He said and it was sincere.  John wasn’t the best father in the world but he did what he could.  He only had one son left and he tried to keep the lines between them open even if they did fight sometimes.  John had never accepted Sam’s abduction as anything less than negligence on his own part and Dean had never stopped trying to convince him it was his fault for not walking Sammy to class.  They were both upset with the other for taking the blame and fourteen years later their fights tread the same lines, even if the argument was different. 

 

 

He raised the shot to his lips and downed it quickly, taking in the rest of the bar.  Dark wood, well kept but nicked and stained and dented from years of patronage butted up against  brown walls that seemed to hide whatever marks seemed to come and go.  The wall behind the bar was mirrored and shelves of drinks sat against it, the barkeep seemed to be admiring herself which Dean admitted, she had every right to.  His mouth quirked open to excuse himself from the table when a shadow passed in front of him and the shot glass, half way from lips to table fell numbly from his hands. 

 

 

He stared up at the man before him, impossible tall and starring at Dean like he was every Christmas present he’d ever asked for, all wrapped up and waiting under the tree.  He wanted to run screaming and he wanted to pull out the holy water, but what he ended up doing was nothing.

 

 

“Hey Dean.  Remember me?”  He asked, eyes begging acknowledgement but never once looking at John.  His hand was resting on the back of his neck, like he’d just finished running it through his hair and all Dean could think was that he was tall.  Fucking tall, just like he knew he’d be and that he needed to get some better clothes because his were worn and didn’t fit him well.  A trip to Good Will or Target or Wal-Mart or something before they headed out would fix that up though.

 

 

“And you are?”  John asked when the silence became too long and Dean and the other man were still starring at one another without noticing him.

 

 

Sam’s smile faltered a tiny bit at the intrusion but Dean stood up then, his shock ending with John’s words.  “Sammy.”  He wrapped his arms around his baby brother and pulled tight, tighten than Dream Sam ever had and held on for dear life. 

 

 

He was aware of a lot of things as he held on, heard his father’s chair fall down as he stood too quickly, the hush that fell on the crowded bar when they thought there might be a fight, the catch of his father’s breath and murmured “Sammy?” that was a question and a prayer, then heard the hardening voice whisper “Christo” but none of it took him away from Sammy’s embrace.

 

 

He felt the snort that ran through Sammy’s body and tightened his grip on his arms, but stepped back to look him in the eye.

 

 

“Happy birthday Dean.”

 

 

“Sammy?”  John asked again and this time Sammy looked over at him.  “It’s Sam now Dad.”  He said, giving a small smile to the man who seemed like he was torn between jumping for cover and drowning in the sight of his lost son. 

 

 

Dean stepped back to let John in, but while Sam let John in for a hug, he grabbed Dean’s arm with one hand to keep him close.  A needless gesture but Dean suddenly felt better than he had in … well … fourteen years. 

 

 

They stared at one another for a minute, then John was sitting back down and Dean was getting Sam to do the same.  Dean grabbed a chair for Sam, pulling it closer to himself that was probably invading his space a bit, but he didn’t really care.  Sam didn’t seem to mind either as he took the space and pressed his knee against Dean’s as he leaned back.

 

 

“Jesus Sam.  Where do we begin?”  John asked.

 

 

“If someone breaks into Sound of Music I’m gonna kick someone’s ass.”  Sam said instantly.  Dean and John looked at one another for a minute before Dean began laughing.  Sam’s smile lit his face and they all laughed then, relieving some of the tension. 

 

 

The barkeep brought another round of shots at Dean’s instigation and they all drank, Sam’s beer arriving just in time to chase it down.  Dean tried this time.  “What happened Sammy?  That day, what happened?”

 

 

Sam looked slightly pained but Dean had to ask, had to know.  “I told you all of this Dean.”

 

 

Dean’s eyes widened and he shook his head.  “No.  No, that’s not possible.”

 

 

“Nothing is impossible Dean, you know that.  More than most people you know that.  How else did you recognize me?”

 

 

“What’s he talking about Dean?”  John asked.

 

 

“Sammy… it was just a dream.”

 

 

“NO.”  There was ice in his voice and both men recognized the edge of power that danced across it as well.  “It wasn’t.  Just because you wanted to deny what was happening to me Dean doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.  It was the only way … you couldn’t get me out of what was happening and I had to bide my time until I could get free.  But you had to know that I would find you.  Dean.  Please tell me you knew that I was going to get free for you.”

 

 

There was a hysteric edge to the voice and Dean had to look away from the pleading eyes in front of him.  John was watching them both, anger and fear and fierce joy playing through his eyes in succession almost too quick to catch.  He closed his eyes for a second and felt Sammy’s hand on his face, tilting it back up to him.

 

 

“Dean?”

 

 

“Yeah Sammy.”  He voice sounded like gravel which was fine because his soul felt like a pit that had been emptied and filled with rock sized chunks of anything that might fill the hole, everything rubbing together, crushing and burning, biting into his being until the only sound it could make was gritty and bleeding.  “I knew you’d make it out for me.”

 

 

“Out of where Sam?” John asked.  There was no answer as the brothers looked at one another, pain on Dean’s face and relief on Sam’s.  “Dean?  What’s going on?”

 

   
 


	2. To Be With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam disappeared from school when he was 9 years old. Dean has lived half his life without Sam. What happens when Sam comes home?

The motel room was a blur really. The beige walls and blue brown trim were dingy and in need of touch ups, something that Dean always noticed when they entered a motel, if only to catalogue the list of crap places he’d spent his life in, but they were all unnoticed tonight. He closed the door behind him and Sam was waiting at his side.

He’d walked side by side with Dean as they walked back from the bar in silence, their shoulders brushing as often as not and Dean still couldn’t quite breathe right.Sammy was here.He was right here, he could be held and touched and seen.He kept thinking those thoughts, his mind shying away from the idea that what he’d seen all these years in his dreams had been true.

John hadn’t been happy to be walking in silence on the other side of Sam, but he kept the peace. They’d agreed that the middle of a bar wasn’t the place for this and they’d left immediately. Dean never told John about the dreams, wanted to keep his on going illusions, wanting to keep his own private Sammy to himself. If he’d ever believed it might be real he’d have talked about it, he’d have tried to use it to find out where Sammy was and save him.

John was sitting at the small table and watching Sam carefully.There was still an edge to Sam, something that whispered power to those that knew how to look for it.There was no such power in John or Dean, but when you hunted it long enough you learned to feel it in close quarters.He wasn’t a demon though and Dean knew Sam wouldn’t hurt him, knew it as sure as he knew his father wouldn’t.He wasn’t so sure about the two of them hurting each other though.

“Wrong time and place maybe, but I really need a shower.” He said softly to Dean, his smile was warm and almost inviting. Dean shivered against it, then nodded.

“Go ahead. It’ll gives me a chance to fill John in on everything.”

Sam nodded, went to Dean’s bag and fished out some sweats and a clean tee shirt, then let the bathroom door close behind him with a click of the lock. When Dean looked away from the bathroom door he found his father standing beside him, eyes searching Dean’s.

He swallowed quickly then sat on the edge of one of the beds, lowering his head into his hands.“Jesus.”He heard the squeak of the other mattress and knew his father was in front of him.“John, if I had known …” He stopped, realizing he couldn’t explain how badly he’d screwed up until John knew everything.

He didn’t know how long he sat in silence, but eventually he took a deep breath, straightened up and looked John in the eye.“When I was seventeen I had a dream about Sammy.”He could see John about to interrupt but he continued on before he could ask questions.“We were just in some motel, Sammy sitting there and talking about where he’d been and the things he’d seen.At first it was just fun stuff, nothing serious.Then I started having nightmares.”He took a deep breath, pain flared through him, trying to find words to say what he didn’t want to acknowledge. It took a few minutes before he was able to say it.“He was being tortured Dad.”

John’s eyes widened but if it was the thought of Sam being tortured or Dean slipping and calling him Dad he’d never know. He hadn’t done that in years. “He was begging me to make it stop. I kept asking how, where he was, what I could do to help, but he never answered, just begged.”

“You should have told me Dean.”The disapproval in his voice was clear, but Dean had been expecting that.He’d let them all down by keeping this secret.

“No.” He looked up and saw Sammy standing in the bathroom doorway. He was moving and kneeling before Dean, his hands capturing Dean’s as he looked into his brother’s eyes. “There was nothing you could have done Dean. Nothing. I …” He stopped talking for a minute, making Dean really focus on his words. “I had to give in eventually. Everyone breaks, but I knew that so I gave in where I had to, to keep from becoming one of them. Because of that, I was able to find you again, to talk to you, to get close to you so that when I found a way to escape we could be together again.”

“Jesus Sammy.”His voice was ragged again, torn from breath that didn’t want to come.

“What are you Sam?”

It was too easy to become lost in Sam and he found himself forgetting John was there over and over again.Sam’s eyes hardened as he looked down and back to where John was.

“I’m not a demon if that’s what you’re worried about Dad.” He said, his voice steel and ice. “I’ve done some things that I shouldn’t have had to in order to survive, but I’m not one of them.”

“Then how did you escape?”

“Power play. Evil always turns on itself. I simply had to wait until another player made his move. It’s happened before and I’ve watched it, too weak to break free for more than a short time. I’m stronger now though. Strong enough to fight anything that might try to come for me.”

“What’s coming for you Sammy?”Dean’s voice was as hard as Sam’s then, fear and loss ripping across his heart like a werewolf’s claws.

When Sam looked at him, the adoration was back, the love he felt for Dean visible and aching in its desperation. “Are you going to fight it off for me Dean?” He asked.

“Of course Sammy, why the hell would you even need to ask?”

Sam’s smile widened. “I didn’t.” He looked away for a second, embarrassed. “It’s just good to know it’s still true after all these years.” He looked over at John for a second before focusing on Dean again. “I don’t think anything’s going to try coming after me Dean. I think those that are powerful enough to be a concern are smart enough to stay away. Azazel has his hands full for now, but if anyone were coming it would be him.”

“Azazel?” His father asked.

Sam stood, looking back at their father. “In all these years you never figured that part out?”

Dean realized that something was off. Somehow whenever Sammy talked to John his voice was harder, colder. He didn’t know what had happened, why Sam had such obvious affection for him but not John who deserved it far more, but there was no way to answer that question tonight.

“The yellowed eyed demon. He came for me that day at the school. He watched you drop us off and saw Dean walk me to the door before he grabbed me in the hallway. He said …” There was real anguish in his voice and Dean was almost afraid to hear what he’d say next. “He said he’d kill Dean if I didn’t go with him. I fought at first, thinking I could get away and warn him, but the demon had me and when he took me outside Dean’s classroom and showed me how close he could get without anyone knowing, I gave in. I went quietly. He trained me, taught me over the years to use my potential, and finished what he started when I was born.”

“And what was that?”

Sam smiled softly at John, but it wasn’t warm. It made Dean shiver, as if Sam had the whole of John’s world in his hands and was about to crumble it. “Demon blood.” John winced and Sam laughed. “So you figured that part out, did you? His blood was already running through my veins, enough to taint me so that he could find me wherever you went. He gave me enough to reach the full potential he had hoped I would reach. He wanted a general to lead the demon army. Maybe if he’d got me sooner he might have had a chance, but he never understood who I was, couldn’t get rid of the training and instincts I already had. It makes me better than the others, but also made me rebel against it.”

“What are you saying Sammy?”

Sam looked away from John and he frowned at the concern in Dean’s voice. “He wanted me to lead his army Dean, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I learned what I had to, did what I had to, but only because it would get me home to you. I did everything to be with you.”

Sam’s eyes were watering and before Dean realized what he was doing, he’d stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his baby brother. Sam let out a muffled cry as he buried himself in Dean, crushing him as he wrapped himself closer. John’s eyes narrowed with Sam’s words and actions. He motioned for Dean to keep his eyes open, but left the motel room a minute later. Dean knew John well enough to guess his intentions but he couldn’t bring himself to care. John didn’t trust Sam was who he said he was. Dean had Sammy back though, knew it without a doubt and he wasn’t about to spend any time second guessing that.

He let go of Sam but only long enough to scramble onto the bed and prop some pillows behind his back before holding his arms out. “Come on Sammy.” He said, a soft smile lifting the corners of his lips at the pitiful sight his brother made. “It’s been a long day.” He hoped Sam wouldn’t laugh at his need to keep hold of him, but he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t think Sam was in much better shape though if he were honest with himself.

Sam move quickly into Dean’s arms, wrapping himself around his big brother again, his head resting on Dean’s chest so he could hear the strong, steady heartbeat.One of Dean’s hands caressed his back, running up and down and trailing circles across it while the other played in his hair.Comforting, as he had as a child.Dean was almost asleep when he felt the press of lips over one eyelid and then the other.

“I love you Dean. I’m not gonna let anything else keep us apart. Not ever again. Okay?”

Dean opened his eyes to see Sam’s expressive, earnest face. He reached out and with unaccustomed gentleness cupped Sam’s face with his hand. “Good, because I’m never letting you out of my sight again. They try to take you again; they have to take us both.”

Sam cocked his head to one side and smiled lightly. “You and me always, right Dean?”

“Right Sammy.” His eyes closed again as he felt Sam settled against his chest, the wound in his heart finally beginning to heal after all these years.


	3. I Would Give Anything

Morning came too soon for Dean who spent most of the night etching his brother’s body into his memory.  He barely slept but still felt better than he had in years, happier and more aware of the world around him.  The light was barely filtering in when he heard his father leave the bathroom. 

 

He felt awkward with Sam’s head laying on his chest, his hand rubbing lightly up and down Sam’s back and his other hand resting against his forearm, but not enough to move.  John barely looked his way as he moved in the dark so Dean didn’t have to worry about the fight he felt tensing the air between them. 

 

When he’d come back to the room last night after giving he and Sam a few minutes alone he’d been wary of his lost son.  He didn’t say anything, but Dean knew the look and he glared at his father to keep him from starting trouble.  The last thing they needed was John and Sam fighting.  He didn’t think Sam would leave him, not after all this time apart, but he didn’t want to be put in a position to choose between the two of them.  Too many years of guilt and the terror of separation from the thing that had mattered most in the world had eaten too much of Dean away for him to doubt where that decision would take him.

 

John moved over to the bed and stood beside Dean, looking down at Sam.  He leaned over and let his fingertips run lightly over Sam’s face and Dean watched his eyes tear up as Sam turned his face into the caress.  Dean took a deep breath himself before looking back to his father.

 

John was looking at him then.  “Keep an eye on him Dean.  Even if he is everything he says he is,” his pause showed his skepticism though he couldn’t keep the hope from his voice.  “He might have some trouble adjusting.”

 

“Where are you going John?”  Dean asked quietly.

 

“I just need to do some research son.  I’ll be back tonight probably, by breakfast tomorrow at the latest.”

 

“John-”

 

“Still think I’m a demon Dad?”  Sam asked sleepily.

 

Dean looked down to see half lidded eyes, but his head was still resting on Dean’s chest and he didn’t make any pretense of moving.

 

“Sammy, I didn’t say that.”

 

“It’s Sam.”  He said coldly.  “Do whatever research you need to, but I’m still your son.  Sorry to disappoint you.”

 

Dean’s hand tightened on Sam’s back pulling him as close as he could while his other hand held his forearm tighter.  “That’s not what’s going on Sam.”

 

“Don’t Dean, don’t you dare speak for him.”

 

Dean looked up at John, bewildered and completely lost.

 

“Sam, if you made it out of there alive, we have to find ways to protect you.  You said you can protect yourself, but I don’t want you to have to.  We’ve been …” John’s voice broke and he kneeled beside the bed so that he was eye level with his youngest son.  “We never stopped looking Sam.  We never gave up.  We never had any leads that helped us find you, but I swear we never gave up.”

 

Sam looked up at Dean, his eyes said plainer than words that it was true.  Sam looked back at John and nodded.  “I know Dad.”  He closed his eyes and the discussion was ended. 

 

John grabbed his bag, nodding to Dean as he reached for the door. 

 

The voice was thick with sleep but just loud enough to make John’s hand clench around the doorknob.  “You tried.  You just weren’t good enough.”

 

 

 

 

John had been gone a few hours before Sam stirred again from Dean’s arms.  Dean wasn’t sure what to say in the guilty silence that accompanied Sam’s waking.  He knew Sam didn’t hate them for not finding him, knew in his heart that Sam didn’t blame him, but he did himself and that was all that mattered really.  Sam was just too kind hearted.  Even as a kid he’d been that way, always caring for stray cats in the parking lots and looking out for the other little kids.  Sam and Dean might have moved around a lot in those days and been the outsiders, but Sam had learned how to deflect it by befriending all the lonely kids.  Soon as they’d been in school a few days, Sam would have a group of nerdy little kids that were too clumsy or geeky or wimpy to be in the ‘fun’ groups.  Some things never changed.

 

“Dean …” Sam looked up at him, one hand coming up to rest on his cheek.  “Thought you were just a dream again for a minute.  Almost forgot…”

 

“Sammy …” He had to swallow against the lump in his throat before he could continue.  “God I’m so sorry Sammy.  I should have walked you to class or checked on you at lunch.  I should have been better, should have known-”

 

“No Dean, no.  This isn’t your fault.”  Sam sat up then and Dean missed the warmth of him instantly, his hands reaching out automatically to clench his brother’s hip in one hand, arm in the other.    

 

“Dean, you didn’t mess up.  You were only thirteen.  Dad knew what was out there and he should have protected us better.  Come on Dean,” he said, pulling his arm free of his brother’s grasp.  He reached a shaking hand up to cup Dean’s cheek.  “Thirteen years and he never even knew the demon’s name.  How many monsters and demons did you two face in all that time Dean?  How many did you destroy and yet Dad could never even find out the name of the demon that took his wife and child.” 

 

“Sam, he was doing the best he could.”

 

“Maybe, but if he was, it was never enough.”

 

“Why didn’t you let me help you then?”  His voice was raw and rough and he was grabbing Sam’s upper arm as if he might run away at his words.  “Why didn’t you tell me how to get you out?  You must have known I’d-” his voice broke but he pressed on anyway “I’d do anything to save you Sammy.”

 

His hand slid up Sam’s arm until his hand was cradling Sam’s cheek, a mirror of his brothers.  Sam leaned into the touch the same way he had his fathers.  “Dean, I couldn’t.  I wanted to get free and if there had been a way before, I would have.  I couldn’t get out when it would just get you killed though.  I needed to know that I was strong enough to protect myself, to protect you.”

 

“I’m a big boy Sammy.  I can take care of myself you know.”  He said, his smile genuine when Sam didn’t get offended at his question. 

 

Sam smiled back but there was something else in that smile, something about the look in his eyes that made Dean squirm a little and he dropped his hand back to his little brother’s shoulder as he said “Yeah Dean, I can see you’re a big boy now.” 

 

His smirk turned into a full blow smile though, the kind he’d had in his dreams when they’d talked about their travels and all the things they wanted to do with their lives.  “First day of my new life Dean.  What do you say I hit the shower and you can take me to the greasiest, sloppiest, messiest diner we can find?”

 

“Strawberry milkshake” Dean said with a grin.

 

“And a large order of fries with mayo, ranch, ketchup, and gravy to dip them in.”

 

“It sounds gross when you say it all in one sentence.”

 

“You’re the one that said I had to try fries in gravy.”

 

Dean licked his lips and tried not to notice when Sam’s eyes were drawn to his mouth.  “Don’t knock it till you try it Sammy.  Besides, you’re the one that suggested the mayo.”

 

Sam laughed, letting his thumb brush against Dean’s lips lightly before withdrawing his hand.  “Don’t forget lots of pepper with the mayo and fries.  I’m telling you it makes the whole thing.”  He pulled his hand away then and jumped out of bed.  “Be out in a few.”  He said as he made his way to the bathroom.

 

“And while I’m in the shower, you better remember all the things you said you’d do with me when I got free, because I plan on holding you to it.”

 

Dean laughed away his shock from Sam’s touch at that comment.  Yeah, they’d talked about doing a lot of things when Sam found him.  Everything from stalking Pamela Anderson to burning the biggest ball of twine in the world to eating their way through the best and most fattening foods they could find.

 

Step one was easy enough.  He just hoped the biggest ball of twine in the world wasn’t too well protected because in his dreams Sammy had really wanted to set it on fire and watch it roll.  He had a funny feeling that it was exactly what Sam would insist on too.  His smile widened.  Yeah, he’d do anything for Sam.  If a ball of twine had to die, he was willing to live with that. 

 

 

 

John didn’t make it back that night.  He showed up in the morning with a bag of donuts, three Denny’s Grand Slams, a box of granola bars, and a bag of various types of bagels and cream cheese.  Dean frowned, trying to figure out what his dad was doing but John gave an embarrassed shrug and smiled.  “Wasn’t sure what Sammy would want.”

 

“It’s Sam.”  He said, his voice muffled in the back of Dean’s head.  He took a deep breath, rubbing his forehead through Dean’s hair and not bothering to pull his arm away from where it was draped across Dean’s hip, his hand resting lightly on his stomach. 

 

“Sorry about that son.”  John apologized as he looked at Dean, waiting for some cue about what to do next. 

 

Dean took mercy on his father and sat up.  He didn’t want to but as nice as it was to feel Sam tight up against him, he wasn’t entirely comfortable with John seeing them spooned up together like that. 

 

“Up and at ‘em Sammy.  Don’t we have a ball of twine to catch?” Dean asked as he got out of bed and grabbed for one of the styrofoam containers.

 

John’s eyebrows raised but he smiled lightly as Sam sat up and looked at the offering.  “God, I smell bacon.  Dad, tell me that’s real bacon.”

 

John handed one of the other containers to Sam with a smile.  “All yours.  Got coffee in the car too.”  He said, then turned for the door.

 

He headed out and Sam looked up from his food to Dean.  “How many types of coffee you think he bought?” 

 

Dean laughed, barely managing to keep the food in his mouth and nearly choked.  Sam was pounding him on the back when John came back in, one drink carrier full and a small bag that held creamer, sugar, equal, and any other coffee additive Sam might want. 

 

“Got some tea bags too in case you preferred that.”  John’s tone was self-conscious but Sam didn’t seem to notice so Dean ignored it.  He wasn’t sure how to confront Sam about his feelings towards their father but he figured little at a time would do.  John wasn’t at fault for not finding Sam and he’d figure out quick enough that John would do anything for him.

 

Sam laughed at that, getting up out of bed to grab a coffee and dump enough sugar and cream to make Dean wonder if he could even taste the coffee. 

 

He took a large drink, closing his eyes and smiling as he did so.  He’d done the same thing with fries and gravy, no matter how much he had complained about the odd looks they received for ordering it.

 

“Good?”  John asked.

 

Sam smiled up at him.  “Just about the best thing I’ve tasted in my life.”

 

“Just about?”

 

“Well, there are a few things better than coffee.”  Sam looked over at Dean and smiled.  A half remembered image form in his head of Sam leaning closer in the middle of the night, his lips pressed to the back of Dean’s neck as his tongue lightly caressed the spot.  He swallowed hard and Sam looked back at John.  “These eggs are pretty good after all.”

 

John laughed at Sam’s smile, not noticing Dean’s flush as he raised a hand to his neck and rubbed the spot lightly.  “So, any plans for today John?”  He asked, trying to push through the uncomfortable idea of what Sam had done.

 

John looked back at the door and then Dean understood the morning’s offerings.  “No.”

 

“I got a call from Caleb.  He needs help.”

 

Dean stood up, his body moving between father and brother without realizing it.  “I’m not taking Sammy on a hunt.”

 

“Dean, if he got out of hell-”

 

“I said no John!  No.”

 

“Dean, it’s OK.  He’s just-”

 

“No Sam.  It’s not OK.  We’re not going on a hunt.”

 

“Caleb needs-”

 

“So does Sammy!”  Dean was moving and had John pressed against a wall before he realized it.  “You wanna help Caleb you go ahead, but I’m not taking Sam anywhere near a hunt.”  He let go of John then, backing up until his legs touched the bed. 

 

“Dean…”  Sam had crawled towards the end of the bed and reach his hand up Dean’s spine, letting it rest lightly between his shoulder blades.  “I’m sure Dad wouldn’t go if Caleb had been able to find someone else.”  He looked at John for confirmation.  “Right Dad?”

 

“Sam, it’s not like there’s a lot of us out there...”

 

Dean looked back over his shoulder to see Sam’s face.  He looked crestfallen but shrugged.  “Yeah.”  He said, looking away from John.  “I understand Dad.”

 

Dean turned away from his father to look at Sam.  “No, it’s not OK Sammy.  We’re not going.”  He looked over his shoulder at the eldest Winchester.  “Go if you need to John, but you and Caleb are on your own.”

 

John watched the two of them for a moment then nodded his head.  “Yeah, alright.”  He said, realizing Dean wasn’t going to back down.  “I’ll head out in a little while.”

 

Dean let out an angry breath, but didn’t look at John.  “No need to wait around John.  Caleb needs you.  I got Sammy.”

 

They didn’t say anything else and breakfast was eaten in silence.  When John finished, he dumped his things in the trash and began moving around the room, packing his things as he went.  Sam pulled Dean back to sit next to him, backs to the headboard.  He let his knee bump into Dean’s, trying to comfort him but their father’s movements kept him worked up.

 

John was nothing if not efficient and he was packed a short time after he started, even trying to stall it.  He sat on the edge of the bed beside Sam for a minute before he reached a hand out to touch Sam’s face.  “Sam, I won’t be gone long.  I’ll just help Caleb and I’ll be back.”

 

Sam nodded but wouldn’t look John in the eye.  He pulled his hand away then stood looking at Dean.  “I’ll call as soon as I can.”

 

“Yeah John.  Sure thing.”  He didn’t bother to try talking to him again, just nodded as John closed the door behind him.

 

“We’ll be alright Sammy.”  Dean said, looking at Sam who was still watching the door.  He put his arm around Sam’s shoulder, pulling him closer.

 

“I know Dean.  I’ve got you now.  Nothing else matters.”  He said, settling down until he was comfortably resting against his brother’s side.  He gave Dean a sad smile.  “You and me again big brother, just like old times.”

 

Dean gave a bigger smile, trying to bolster Sam up with his own enthusiasm.  It was only a partial façade.  He loved having his brother at his side and remembered their younger years fondly.  He was still fighting off his disappointment with John, but he’d always known John’s obsession with hunting was going to end badly.  He’d just never thought after finding Sammy their dad would jump back into the hunt without taking at least a small break. 

 

Sighing, Dean pulled Sam closer, closed his eyes and dropped his head to rest on the top of Sam’s head. He felt Sam’s smile against his chest and felt his brother’s arms wrap around his waist, comforting and confusing all at the same time.   “You and me Sammy, just like we’re supposed to be.”


	4. Death is my Wake

“I hate demons.” Dean said matter-of-factly as they sat outside, waiting for the demon of the week to show its face. Sam shifted a little at his side but Dean simple touched his brother’s shoulder, letting his fingers touch the soft skin at the back of his neck in comfort. Sam hated talking about demons and being around them even worse.

They’d been holed up in the last motel for a week waiting for Dean’s latest wounds to heal which had come on the heels of a three week wait for a viable lead when this had come their way. Dean was still too sore to say he was a hundred percent, but it was enough to get back to the hunt when people’s lives were endangered.

He was nervous though. Not about his own abilities, because even a slightly off Dean Winchester was still a hell of a hunter, even if he did say so himself. No, his nervousness was about bringing Sam into this. His brother insisted he wanted to be hunting and that he’d spent his entire life training to fight the supernatural so he might as well give it a go. Still, he wasn’t too happy about bringing his newly found baby brother on a hunt like this. Not something this big.

Sam had been restless as well though in the motel. They’d been hunting now for six months but Dean hadn’t let them take on anything much more than a simple haunting in all that time. Truth told, Dean was getting itchy to get into some real action, but there had always been someone else who could handle it, someone else who didn’t have a brother to relearn and look out for. This time, there was no one else though and while Dean was happy to send another evil son of a bitch to hell, he’d have been happier to have John there than Sam.

Sam was a better hunter than he would have guessed. Sam might seem like a big softly for Dean, but there was a hardness in him that had only begun to show in his attitudes towards John. Dean still worked at Sam to understand that John wasn’t to blame for what happened to him, but Sam was slow in letting go of that. John’s need to hit the road almost as soon as Sam was found certainly didn’t help and Dean wished he understood why his father couldn’t take a little time to get to know his son. He was sure if he did, Sam would get past this blame he assigned to John.

Still, Sam at his side was always a good thing.Well, except when it wasn’t.Like when Sam pressed up against him every night and nipped at his neck, tasting him.He knew that’s what it was, something he couldn’t understand nor could he deny it to his brother.It happened at different times of the night, but sometime after dinner and before they woke in the morning Dean would find Sam spooned up behind him, his lips brushing lightly against Dean’s neck, his hand pressing into Dean’s stomach holding him tight against him.Normally his tongue would trace a small path over his skin, but he had managed to bite a few times as well, leaving teeth marks, breaking skin, and making almost imperceptible sounds as he sucked the wound until it bled no more.

Or the way Sam would wake in the morning and press his nose into the same part of his neck, then rub his forehead into the back of his head. It made him think of a cat, scenting his territory. He was all fine with Sam needing to stake a claim on his brother after all this time apart, but he hoped Sam realized if he even looked like he was hiking his leg, there was going to be trouble.

All in all though, Sam was happy to be with Dean and Dean was just as happy to be with Sam. They went from hunt to hunt, traveling together, living in each other’s pockets, and getting drunk together. Dean hadn’t tried to pick up on anyone since Sam’s return and he had no inclination to. Contrary to popular belief, Dean Winchester could think with more than his down stairs brain and any kind of action he might be looking for would take him away from Sam and that just wasn’t happening anytime soon. For now, Dean was making out just fine with his right hand and he wasn’t going to worry about anything else. If Sam showed any inclination towards a hook up Dean would make himself scarce but so far Sam was more interested in beating Dean at knife throwing and getting Dean to teach him the fine art that was a Winchester hustling pool.

A light at the end of the driveway made both the boys look. The SUV made its way down the dark path and its owner took no time in getting out and heading to the front door. Dean caught Sam’s eye and realized his brother had that determined look on his face. He nodded to Sam, then began moving towards the house to see if the devil’s trap they’d made had managed to catch the man they’d been watching.

Sam opened the door and Dean went in first, moving swiftly around the corner and easing up slightly as he found their victim, waiting in the center of the circle. “Well well, imagine meeting you here.” He said with a smile.

The man looked past Dean over at Sam as he followed his brother further in. “Oh, the Boy King. How your father must hate you right now.”

“Shut up demon.” He said, his voice tight with rage.

“Honestly, this is what you left him for? A chance for this?” He laughed. “I would have thought better of you. Of course, it wasn’t just about family was it? You didn’t leave just for the brotherly bond did you Sam?” The demon looked Dean over and Dean brought his gun back up. Wouldn’t do too much to the demon but the bullets were dipped in holy water and it would certainly hurt.

“Not that I blame you. If I had a brother that looked like that, I’d be sure to come home too. Not that this meat sack is bad. I think I’ll keep him alive a bit longer. I’ve been getting some good action out of him. Damn shame about your brother though-”

Dean knew something was happening as soon as the demon spoke his last words, turning around to see a woman throwing herself at Sam.“Sam!”He yelled in warning or in grief he wasn’t sure.

He shouldn’t have been so worried though because as soon as she knocked into Sam, she was on top of Dean, throwing him to the floor as well. Straddling him, she raised the knife high. Sam was on her before Dean could do more than stare, stunned by the blow his head had taken in the fall. Big hands wrapped around her neck and he twisted sharply, breaking her neck in the process.

Sam dropped her to the side of Dean, helping pull his brother away from the woman. He pulled a gun from his belt then and shot the demon in the center of the trap. The demon snarled but it wasn’t enough to make it flee. Sam handed the journal to Dean who took it with a frown, then opened it to the marked page and began saying the exorcism. Sam moved quietly until he stood over the dead woman, kicked her a few times for good measure, before waiting to see if the demon inside her decided to try to bring her back.

It wasn’t long, but by the time the demons had been expelled and the house burned down, Dean was exhausted and ready for a quick shower and a long sleep. Sam seemed excited though, talking about anything that came into his head as Dean drove.

Finally, he turned the music off and gave Sam a sideways stare. “So you want to explain to me what happened back there?”

Sam looked over at him curiously. “We exorcised two demons?”

“And you killed two innocent people.”Dean said.

Sam shrugged. “Friendly fire man.”

“What?”

“They were lost Dean. I mean, I’m sorry that people have to die, but this is a war and you don’t win wars without sacrifice.”

“What the hell are you talking about Sammy? I get the lady. There wasn’t much else to do when something like that’s happening, but you killed the innocent in the devil’s trap. You didn’t have to do anything to him, he was just sitting there.”

“You think they didn’t plan all of that Dean? You think they didn’t figure it out somehow and that he wasn’t just bait for us?”

“So the innocent in him had to die?”

“Once a demon possesses you Dean, there’s no innocence left.”

“You’re starting to sound like John.”

“He’s stayed alive this long for a reason.”

“No Sammy. No, I’m not taking that route so you better just get it out of your head. I don’t kill innocent people. We don’t kill innocent people. If I have to take someone out because of a demon I will, but we don’t kill the innocent when we don’t have to. You get it Sam because I’m not going over this again!”

Sam took a deep breath and Dean could tell there was a lot more his little brother wanted to say but wasn’t. He didn’t know what bothered him more, the fact that Sam wasn’t bothered at all by the death, or the fact that he knew if Sam kept doing it this argument would be mute because he would never leave Sam, no matter how many innocents he killed.

“Fine.”

That was all the answer Dean got and he sighed as they pulled into the motel parking lot. Sam got out of the car quickly and Dean let his head rest against the steering wheel of his baby. He took a couple deep breaths before getting out and walking into the room. He could hear the shower running in the bathroom and wanted to curse Sam for jumping in before him, but Sam came out, a small smile on his face. “All ready for you.” He said.

Dean frowned, then shook his head of the confusion.OK, so Sam still did weird things to make up for things with Dean, but at least it meant a hot shower waiting for him.“Thanks Sammy.”He said, brushing past his brother and into the other room.He stripped quickly, and then let himself relax under the hot water.He didn’t take too long though, knowing he’d fall asleep if he did.He dried off a little and wrapped the towel around his waist as he left the bathroom.

“Yours Sammy.” He called out as he walked to his bag. Sam came to stand next to him, a hand going out to rest on his hip as he waited for Dean to look at him. “I’m sorry about earlier Dean. I … I just didn’t think about it. All I could think was that they wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry; I just wanted to protect you.”

Dean nodded, feeling like he couldn’t breathe with Sam standing so close. “Yeah Sammy, I know. We just have to … remember who we are, you know? Remember what keeps us from being them, and that’s that we’re out there helping people.”

Sam gave a small smile and his hand gripped Dean’s hip harder for a minute before he let go and walked into the bathroom.

Dean let his breath out, not realizing he’d been holding it back. Sometimes Sam… got to him. He didn’t know how to explain it exactly but it was like Sam was in his body with him. Sometimes when Sam got so close he couldn’t breathe unless it was in time with Sam, couldn’t think unless Sam was telling him something, couldn’t even feel unless it was Sam he was feeling.

He reached into his bag and grabbed the boxers, pulling them on quickly and sliding between the sheets to try to get comfortable. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the sounds Sam was making in the shower. It helped him breath easier and as he did, images formed in his mind, a replay of the night’s events. Only this time when he saw his brother’s large hands over the woman’s face he wondered what it would fell like to have Sam cup his face in those hands. He saw Sam’s angry sneer as he fired the gun and wondered what it would be like to feel those lips moving across his shoulder from where it would taste his neck each night.

He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to remove those images.What the hell?This was his baby brother!He’d probably knock Dean on his ass for even thinking about those sorts of things.Not to mention the fact that Dean was still a little freaked out over how simple it had been for Sam to kill innocent people.Sam showed no remorse towards the act, only to Dean’s reaction to it.It wasn’t like he wanted his brother to be unable to act in a fight, but he’d always thought of Sam as that geeky little brother who had been too sweet to be involved in this sort of things.He wasn’t that boy though and nothing he told himself would make the night’s events settle any better.The truth was, his little brother had been taken and raised by a demon.He would never be the innocent again.He was a cold blooded killer and damn if there wasn’t a part of Dean that didn’t remember the look on his face as he pulled the trigger and think he was beautiful.He pushed that thought aside and refused to let the demon’s words about brotherly bonds and appreciation of Dean’s physical appearance come to mind.

As the bathroom door opened, Dean turned over onto his side, his back to his brother. It was only a minute longer before he felt the bed dip beside him and Sam came up behind him. As most night when there had been a hunt, Sam didn’t waste time. His hand came up over Dean’s hip and pressed against his stomach, pushing him back into the comfort of Sam’s body.

Dean took a stuttered breath as Sam lip’s hovered just over the skin of his neck.Sam’s fingers clenched slightly, his nails scraping over the flesh of his stomach, making Dean feel warm and out of breath.Sam’s breath was stuttered as well as he blew lightly over the skin.His lips felt hotter than they should, hotter than he was used to and Dean barely suppressed a moan.

He felt the tentative touch of Sam’s tongue, warm and light before it disappeared quickly.Sam made a small noise in the back of his throat and it went straight down Dean’s spine. He could feel Sam hard behind him and bit his lip, his own erection becoming uncomfortable even as he tried to force it away, force these feelings away.Sam’s lips moved slightly, leaving searing strips of flesh in his wake across the back of his neck and across his shoulder.His hand moved from Dean’s stomach to his hip, lightly caressing and Dean felt the subtle pressure of Sam’s hips moving against him.

Dean couldn’t suppress this moan and as soon as the noise was out of his mouth he felt Sam still behind him, as if he realized what he’d done.He heard his brother swallow roughly and the hand on his hip shook slightly as it eased down back to his stomach like they normally slept.Sam put a tiny amount of space between their bodies as he lay still, the only noise between them then was the sound of Sammy’s ragged breathing.

As much as they’d been through lately, Dean didn’t feel bad about the fact that he fell asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes. The last thing he heard before falling into the oblivion was Sam’s shaky voice as he whispered in Dean’s ear. “Night Dean.” Then as if he was afraid he’d never get the nerve, he kissed the back of Dean’s ear, his tongue tracing the back of it lightly. “Sleep well my love.”

He wasn’t sure if he’d really heard that or not when the morning came, but at night, with the hunt behind him and his emotions running in turmoil in his head, it made him feel safe and loved.His little brother might have turned into a cold blooded killer with no remorse about it, but Dean had his brother back and he was strong and skilled and not afraid to defend them.He felt guilty and confused about his body’s need to see Sam’s comfort as something sexual, but he needed comfort more than anything else and as long as Sammy didn’t mind the innuendos Dean wasn’t about to pull back.

And if it was Sammy’s face that had flashed in his eyes as he’d come in the shower, Sammy with his eyes dark with passion and rage, Dean let himself forget in the wake of sleep, with strong arms and a sense of home and safe and brother wrapped around him.


	5. Your Name Too Sweet To Call

Sam had always loved the water.  Dean could remember taking him to the beach and the pool when they were little, before Mom had died and Dad had forgotten how to be a father.  When they got a little older, he’d taken him swimming on his own whenever they’d have a motel with a pool clean enough to risk it.  So Dean was quite happy to be sitting at the poolside, watching Sammy as he did laps, his graceful form cutting through the water sharp and furious.

 

It was the way Sam did everything these days, except when Dean was right there at his side.  It wasn’t the hunts that were getting to him, but something was bothering his little brother and he wouldn’t talk about it. 

 

When Sam looked up from the last lap Dean smiled and held a beer bottle up, inviting Sam over.  His brother looked at him for a second, then smiled back and climbed out the ladder.  Dean took a minute to watch his brother, unguarded while Sam was looking away.  The water glistened off his tanned skin and fell in fine lines across his well muscled torso.  He tried not to let his gaze go further and was only successful because Sam turned to look at him just then.

 

He smiled at Sam, holding the bottle out to him.  Sam came over and sat on the lounge chair Dean was in, his hip resting against Dean’s knee as he faced him.  “Aren’t you done with all those laps yet Sammy?”  Dean asked.

 

Sam took a long pull on the bottle, his lips curving into a smile as he saw Dean’s gaze caught at the sight of his lips.  “I could be.”  He said as he sat the beer down on the table.  He scooted closer to Dean, leaning over until his face was a breath away from Dean’s.  “You got something better for me to do?”  He asked.

 

Dean licked his lips and tried to swallow the lump in his throat.  He might have been able to play it off but the heat that spread through him as his brother brought his hand up to rest on his stomach, thumb rubbing back and forth lightly across sensitive skin was undeniable. 

 

Sam saw his actions, knew his hesitation and smiled.  “It’s okay Dean, just you and me right?  Always?”  He leaned in further then, letting his lips brushing softly against Dean’s.  There was no hesitance; just a simple question with the touch and Dean felt himself burning. 

 

“Yeah Sammy.  Always.”  He said, not sure what he was answering but knowing it was true none the less.  He couldn’t think much past Sam and lips and when Sam tried to give Dean another light kiss, he caught the back of his brother’s head with his hand and pulled him down, his lips opening for something deeper.  Sam didn’t need further encouragement and his tongue pushed inside Dean’s mouth, shifting in the seat to get better leverage.

 

Sam was a damn fine kisser and his head was spinning as he wondered what else his little brother could do with that mouth of his.  Sam broke the kiss then, letting his forehead rest against Dean’s.  He opened his eyes and looked at him.  “Dean …” he was out of breath and Dean licked his lips to get the remaining taste of Sam.  “Fuck.”  Sam said, his eyes following Dean’s lips.  His hand followed the line of Dean’s body though and as he reached down and slipped his hand under the waist of his brother’s swim trunks he brought his lips to Dean’s throat.  “Want you Dean.  Please, need to touch you.  Tell me you want me to Dean.  Tell me you’ll let me.”

 

“Anything you want Sammy, god yeah, anything you want.”

 

 

 

Dean sat straight up and stared at the wall for a minute before realizing where he was.  Sam shifted in the bed beside him and Dean took a deep breath remembering.  A shiver ran through him as he got up, crossing quietly to the bathroom and closing the door.  He ran some water in the sink and let it pool in his hands before washing his face.  He could swear he felt Sam’s hand still on his cock and he closed his eyes, the memory of the dream fresh enough to make him want more. 

 

He pushed his boxers down slightly, enough to pull himself free and as he looked in the mirror he began stroking himself.  He bit his bottom lip to keep from making any noises that might wake Sam up.  It became harder when he closed his eyes, imagining Sam’s huge hands running up and down his shaft, reaching further down to cup his balls and run his fingers over sensitive skin.  He imagined the way Sam would look, dragging his body down Dean’s, his lips trailing kissed down his chest, his fingers caressing Dean’s nipples as Dean was doing himself.  Imagined what it would look like to see Sam’s lips open wide around his cock as he sucked him down, the noise he would make as Dean came down his throat.

 

The last image was too much and he spilled out over his hand, orgasm drowning his senses as he tried to choke down the noises that threatened to leave him.  He wasn’t exactly the quiet type during sex, figuring if it was good you should appreciate it vocally and even imaginary sex with his baby brother was no different.

 

He’d been trying to forget this feeling, this desire, for the last three nights but each time he woke hard and wanting.  The problem wasn’t wanting this really.  Dean’s life had been pretty messed up for longer than he liked to remember and wanting something he couldn’t and shouldn’t have was nothing new.  Neither was dreaming about it.  Yeah, he might be a pervert for wanting to be sucked off by his little brother, but he’d never act on it, could repress it for as long as he needed to.  He was a Winchester after all and they were the reigning champions on repression and denial.  The problem wasn’t that though.  The real problem was that he didn’t think the dreams were random at all. 

 

If he went out into the room now, he was sure he’d find his brother’s boxers wet from his own dreams.  If he asked in the morning Sam would give him that odd little smile that meant he knew something Dean didn’t, and Sam would say “I dreamed I was swimming.”  Considering the nature of their telepathic communication so far in their life, having erotic dreams about his baby brother seemed more like a shared experience than a dream.  He didn’t know how to ask Sam about it and part of him didn’t want to.  He didn’t want to confirm how wrong this all was, but he also didn’t want to stop the dreams either.

 

God, this was fucked.  He was fucked.

 

After another five minutes of berating himself for lusting after his brother, Dean finally left the bathroom and crawled back into bed with Sam.  His brother’s arm came up instinctively, not bothering to wake, and Sam pushed Dean into the mattress, laying his head on his brother’s chest.  Sam’s arm lay loose at Dean’s waist and he sighed into the skin to skin contact.

 

Dean took a deep breath, settling his thoughts as he tried to fall back asleep.  It wasn’t working well.  Dean might have woken up from a shared dream, but Sam apparently kept it going once he’d left.  He heard his name in a voice that sounded like sex and sin and promises that only Sam could make.  Dean let his hand curl up in Sam’s hair and as he did, felt his brother’s hips thrusting against him.  He moaned, trying not to feel this but not stopping it either.

 

It wasn’t long before Dean felt his brother’s hips stutter though and the hip of his boxers became wet as Sam’s orgasm ripped through him.  He kissed the top of his brother’s head, not knowing what else to do.  He couldn’t care less at the moment what else he should be doing.   “Dean…” the voice was soft and held a plea of forgiveness in it.  “Always know what I need baby…” 

 

Dean stared down at Sam, lost and falling away from everything he knew he was.  It was as close to confirmation as he ever wanted that these dreams were the same as the ones he had always shared with Sam, dreams his brother consciously controlled.  It meant something to Sam that they were doing this, but he couldn’t figure out what Sam wanted from him.  There had to be something, but even as he grew more frustrated by his ignorance, he took comfort in knowing that he was giving Sammy what he needed.    His last thought as he feel asleep again was always, what Sammy needed.


	6. i Have Watched Through Bloodstained Eyes

“Come on Dean.  Are you seriously going to do this?”  Sam asked, sitting in front of the laptop’s blue screen and staring like Dean had grown a third eye in the middle of his forehead.

 

“Sam, we’ve talked about this before.  It’s a job and I’m not ignoring it.”

 

“He left us Dean.”  Sam’s face pinched slightly at that betrayal and while Dean felt it also, he kept his face blank to try and forestall this argument.  “He left with no word about where he was or what he was doing.  Why do we have to jump when he says Dean?  Why should we run off to some backwater town when there are closer hunts just because Dad send you coordinates?”

 

“It’s important Sam or John wouldn’t have sent them.”

 

Sam fumed silently for a minute and Dean hoped it was the end of it.  He’d never been more wrong.

 

“This is what he always said would happen.”

 

Sam’s voice was almost a whisper and Dean wasn’t sure he’d heard him right at first.  “What are you talking about?”

 

Sam looked up, taking a deep breath.  “Azazel.  He always said Dad would never leave us alone, that he’d always find a way to interfere.”

 

“Interfere?”  Dean wasn’t sure which part of all that he should address because the idea of Sam taking the Yellow Eyed Demon’s part in anything made him sick.   “Sam, he’s our father.  It’s not called interfering, it’s called caring.”

 

“Yeah, like caring that you were hurt when I called him two weeks ago.  Oh I forgot, he never returned that phone call.  All he cares about is his revenge Dean, and I get it, but we don’t need him telling us where to go or what to do.”

 

“It’s not like that Sammy.  Just stop it.”

 

“No!”  Sam was up from his seat and in Dean’s face so quick he wasn’t sure he actually saw him move.  “I’m not going to do this Dean!  He’s a liability to us.  He’s obsessed with revenge and he’s trying to use us to get it.  I don’t mind helping, because I have a hell of a lot more reason to want Azazel dead than anyone else, but I’m not a puppet for Dad to send where he will.  We have three hunts lined up already.  We don’t need his interference.”

 

“Then what Sam?  Call John and tell him we’re leaving those people to die?”

 

“Damn it Dean!  You don’t know anything about those coordinates yet.  You don’t know that anything is dying.  You just wanna jump because he says too!  I’m telling you Dean, we’re better off without him.  He’s only ever held you back.  You’re the better hunter Dean, you don’t need him.”

 

Dean grabbed him by the shirt, pushing him backwards into the wall.  “Don’t!”  His voice was hard and his hands shook, whether from anger or a fear that Sam would walk out after this he wasn’t sure.  “He never gave up on you Sammy.  He never stopped looking for you.  Don’t you tell me to leave him.”

 

Sam swallowed hard and Dean let go, taking a step away to try to back himself down.  Sam reached out immediately, grabbed Dean’s arm.  “Dean, please.  We’ll go, alright.  Just … think about it okay.  I’m not saying to leave Dad.  I just think we need to let him know we can handle ourselves.  You’re not on your own anymore and he doesn’t need to manage you.  You and me, that’s all we need right now, that’s all I mean.  He doesn’t understand Dean.” 

 

Sam paused, his brow furrowed and his eyes taking on the shadowed look Dean had come to associate too well with Sam thinking about John.  “I know he’s still scared of me.  I don’t know how to change that though and whenever we’re together, I swear he’s just waiting to start exorcising me.”

 

“Sam, he knows you’re not a demon.”

 

“No Dean.  You know it.  Dad keeps waiting for it to manifest somehow.”

 

Dean didn’t know how to fight the truth in that one so he didn’t touch it.  “Sam, come on it’s just a job.  We’ll take this one then work our way back through the others.  Tell you what, when we get done, we’ll work our way back and take a few days on the coast.  A little sun and surf?”  Dean offered.

 

Sam looked like he was considering it for a minute, then broke out into a full smile.  “You mean it?”

 

Dean put on his best smile, though he barely felt it.  “Sure thing Sammy.”  Sam loved the beach and even if it put uncomfortable memories of a certain dream in his head, he’d do it to keep Sam with him.  He just hoped it distracted Sam from his idea of leaving the eldest Winchester in the dust and isolating Dean into a world that was too dangerously close to being Sam and only Sam.


	7. To Have You Mine

Dean felt like screaming, which was in no way a good thing.  Dean Winchester did not scream.  He got in bar fights and left people blue and black and bruised.  He found nasty ghosts to salt and let the flames lick and calm and soothe him.  He found the prettiest, easiest woman he could and buried himself inside her until the screams came out in pants and moans and release left him to tired and lethargic to recall any other feeling.

 

Only Sam wasn’t allowing him any of those things. Dean ground the heel of his hand into his eyes, trying to remove the image that remained there.  The need to protect his little brother at all costs had been so well ingrained in him as a child that he hadn’t even realized what he was doing until they were back at the motel.  Looking at Sam now, he wondered if he should still be protecting Sam.   Cold, hard eyes stared back at him and Dean wondered, not for the first time, if John had ever thought that maybe someday Dean might need protecting from something too, the way he had once believed Dean could protect Sam. 

 

The weakness of the thought fueled his anger though and he pushed hard against Sam’s chest, aware of the chair behind, and watched as Sam fumbled back, tripping over it as he fell to the floor.  “What the fuck Sam?”  His voice was strong and steady, so unlike the way he felt right now.  “Tell me what I missed because I gotta tell ya, I don’t see how I could have misunderstood.”

 

Sam climbed to his feet, one hand rubbing his wrist where he had banged it on the way down.  “It’s protection.”  His voice was hard but patient with a touch of pissed for good measure.  “The spell I use to keep Azazel off me takes blood Dean.  A lot of blood and I needed a donation.”

 

“And the-”

 

“What?  I’m allowed to enjoy myself sometime.  Jesus Dean you’re always telling me I need to get laid.”

 

“And that’s what gets you off?”  Dean stepped closer, clenching his fists tight to keep from doing anything else.

 

“It’s not my preferred method…”  He said, his eyes raking over Dean’s body, making him flush.  Sam smiled.  “But any port in a storm.”

 

Dean grabbed Sam by the arms, pushing him back against the wall, his brother’s head smacking dully against it.  “Don’t you make a joke Sam.  You were fucking some stranger against an alley wall and I made it there in time for the finale.”

 

The corners of Sam’s lips twitch as he tried to suppress a smile.  “I used a condom.”

 

Dean let go of Sam, bringing his fist back and letting it fly.  Sam’s face barely had time to show outrage before Dean’s hands were holding him back again.  “What about the part where you wrapped your arm around his neck?  Where you slit his throat?”

 

Sam leaned his face as close as he could and looked Dean in the eye.  “What bothers you the most Dean?  That I killed him?  That I was fucking him?  Or that you wanted to be the one doing the fucking?  That you wanted to be the one pushing me against the wall, pumping inside of me until I was begging for it?”

 

Dean stared at his brother, shell shocked and terrified.  He didn’t know what to say, what to do, so he did the only thing he could right then.  He left.

 

 

 

Running away, as it turned out, was only partially beneficial.  It removed Sam from his sight which was definitely a good thing, but it didn’t keep him from thinking.  Out of sight, out of mind?  Not so much.  Thinking was out of the question since it just kept leading to replays of the night’s events.  Drinking was out as well since it was too late to find a new bar and he sure as hell wasn’t going back to the place Sam had killed the man.  Fucking … well that was leading right back to thinking and Sam.

 

Dean pulled off on the side of the street and slammed his hands against the steering wheel in anger.  He knew what he should do.  There was no doubt that he should call John and tell him what he’d seen, tell him Sam was killing people.  He also knew he couldn’t, not yet.  They failed Sam years before and he’d spent his life learning to survive at the hands of a demon.  He didn’t blame him for wanting to stay out of hell.  They’d just have to find another way, Dean decided.  Sam would just have to promise not to kill anyone else.  Regardless of what he’d said earlier, he knew Sam did it out of necessity, not lust or need.

 

No, the lust in Sam’s eyes had disappeared before he’d killed.  Dean had been there long enough to see that.  Sam’s lust and the killing were two separate issues, one far easier to deal with than the other.  He closed his eyes, willing the memories away but it wouldn’t work.  He was a Winchester after all and not prone to luck of the good variety.  He managed to repress the dreams he’d had with Sam, managed to push aside the feel of Sam against him, the press of hard muscles sliding over his own, and under him, and all too willing to yield his flesh anyway Dean wanted. 

 

The dreams were easy enough repressed because he’d been doing it since Sam had come back.  No, the memories of tonight were what played in his mind over and over again.  He had come around the corner of the bar quietly, looking for Sam.  He’d been afraid of what he was going to find, but he got itchy if Sam was away for more than a few minutes since he’d come back.  When he heard the voices he’d moved into silent mode. 

 

The guy was pressed with his face to the concrete wall, his pants pooled around his feet.  He was moaning as a huge hand gripped one hip, nails biting into flesh.  Sam stood behind him, his pants were pushed down his thigh, his cock pumping hard and fast into the other man. 

 

Dean swallowed hard at the memory, trying to ignore it. As he closed his eyes he could still see the muscled thighs as he fucked into the man in front of him.  He could see the hint of flesh where his shirt rode up when he put his arms over the other man’s head, resting them against the wall.  He couldn’t help remembering how much he wanted to feel Sam over him like that, overpowering, overwhelming, inescapable.

 

“Damn it!”  He managed to cry out.

 

  The worst part of it all was the shot of lust that had filled him as he’d watched Sam wrap his arm around the man, saw the glint of metal and knew a split second before it happened that Sam was going to end him right there.  There was such power and purpose in what Sam was doing that Dean wanted him worse than anything he’d ever wanted.  If Sam had turned to him then and smiled, asking Dean if he wanted a ride, he’d have said yes.  Instead Sam had let the man fall, then pulled his pants up before seeing Dean there.  When Dean told him it was time to go, Sam raised his eyes but said nothing.  The drive had been painful because of the silence and Dean hadn’t been able to bridge it.  Sam had killed a man.  He could have stopped it but he was too busy getting his rocks off to do it.  It wasn’t a good way to start a conversation.

 

 

They’d made it back to the room with few words and it wasn’t until he’d tried to sit still for a few seconds that he realized he couldn’t.  As much as he wanted to throttle Sam for what he’d done, for the fact that he’d put them in danger, put himself in danger when Dean had only just got him back, he also knew if he stayed still, he’d do what he really wanted.  He’d walk over to Sam and stand in front of him, between his legs as he looked up from the edge of the bed.  He’d run his hand into Sam’s hair and twine his fingers into it good before pulling back and forcing Sam’s eyes up to his own, force his mouth over Sam’s and take away the taste of anything that had ever touched him before.  Wanted to push him back into the mattress and push and pull until there was nothing left but skin and sweat and Sammy.

 

So instead, he’d paced and when he found himself walking too close to Sam, realized he was a breath away from doing it anyway, he forced the confrontation he didn’t want to have, just to keep him from getting what he did want. 

 

And now he was in the middle of nowhere, Sam stranded at the motel without a car and no idea where Dean might have gone.  He took a deep breath and started the car again, turning back to the motel.  There were a lot of things Dean was willing to do, but lose Sam against wasn’t one of them.  No matter what else was going on, they’d find a way to deal with it.  They’d find a way to make things right.  He had to.  He’d failed his brother in so many ways, he’d do whatever he had to if he could make this right.  He’d sell his soul, if he had to.

 

 

When he walked in the room, the only light was from the partially open bathroom door.   Sam sat on the bed farthest from the door, still dressed and eyes staring straight ahead.  When Dean shut the door Sam looked up in surprise and Dean could see the light reflecting against the trace of tears still left on his face. 

 

 “Dean?” 

 

“Well I’m not the maid.”  He said, feeling stupid and hating himself more than a little for leaving Sam like he had.  No matter that he had reason and need, Sam needed him more.  He didn’t know why, couldn’t explain why it was Dean that Sam had become unable to detach from, but it was true all the same.  Dean didn’t know how to deal with the 24/7 intensity of his brother’s gaze, of the dreams that bombarded him with all the information you weren’t supposed to know about your little brother.  He had to do better though, had to learn to cope or Sam was going to get scared and run.

 

Sam was off the bed a second later, moving so fast it was almost a blur, but stopping within a breath of touching, wrapping his arms around himself like he was afraid of being pushed aside and rejected. 

 

“It’s OK Sam.”

 

Sam didn’t say anything at first, just stepped that last bit closer, his head lowered to Dean’s shoulder and still caved into himself until Dean pulled him close and Sam sobbed into his skin.  He pulled him even tighter until he felt Sam relax a little, felt his brother’s arms come around his waist and Dean’s chest loosened up a bit.

 

“Thought you left me Dean.”  Sam’s words were slightly muffled by Dean’s neck but he can hear it well enough.  “I didn’t want you to know, didn’t want you to see.  They always said you were the strong one.  I didn’t want you to know how weak I was.”

 

“Sammy…”  Because he didn’t know what else to say.

 

“If I was stronger I wouldn’t need to do it Dean, wouldn’t need to hurt people to keep them off my trail.  Wouldn’t feel the need to bury myself in … someone else.  It would be enough, just to be here.” 

 

“You’re not weak Sam.”  He pulled Sam up then, forcing him to look in his eyes, his fingers straying into the hair by Sam’s temple and moving dangerously back.  “You do what you have to, what you had to, to survive.  You’ve got me now Sam and no way am I leaving you, you hear me?  I screwed up OK.  I screwed up but somehow you and I will find a way to make things better.  I promise Sam.  I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“You don’t… you don’t think-”

 

“You’re not weak for wanting to protect yourself Sammy.  You’re not weak for needing something to hold onto.”

 

Something seemed to war in Sam’s eyes for a brief moment, but then it was replaced with fear and something close to hope as he leaned forward.

 

Dean knew what was happening, knew where this emotional detour had taken them, but he wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t where the whole trip had been taking them anyway.  The look in Sam’s eyes right before he closed them, the way his body was strung tight as if waiting to be pushed away, gave Dean everything he needed to know.  Sam was terrified of this, of actually doing this without the illusion of the dreams to hide behind, but he needed it enough to do it anyway.  And all Dean needed to know was that Sam needed. 

 

Damn if he didn’t need the same thing too.

 

Sam’s lips were hesitant on his, asking permission and awaiting rejection at the same time.  Dean’s fingers tightened in Sam’s hair, the way he’d been wanting to all night, and he forced Sam’s mouth onto his, forced his brother’s lips apart and reached into Sam’s mouth with his tongue, tasting and memorizing the feel of him.

 

Sam’s body pressed hard into him then and Dean walked Sam backwards until he was up against the edge of the bed.  When he pulled his lips from Sam’s, he pushed his brother’s shoulders hard enough that he fell back.

 

Sam’s eyes widened but Dean was on the bed before Sam could take his gesture as anything more than what it was.  Dean got on his knees on the bed and tossed his jacket in the general direction of the table.  Sam smiled up at him then, smiled with heat and warmth that he knew from too many nights he hadn’t let himself think about.  He began unbuttoning his outer shirt as Dean pulled off his tee shirt and let it drop to the side of the bed.

 

“Help me?”  Sam asked shyly as his eyes took in the sight of Dean’s naked torso.

 

He shook his head slightly.  “Nope.  Wanna watch you Sammy.”  His voice was deeper now, passion and emotion he didn’t want to name making themselves known. 

 

Sam’s eyes widened as did his smile.  He pushed the fabric off his arms and then slowly, painfully slow to Dean’s opinion, began pulling the tee shirt over his head.  He wanted to touch, wanted to feel Sam underneath him, taste his skin and know what every sound he made meant.  Sam’s hands went to his belt and he stood, his eyes still on Dean.

 

Dean was having trouble making eye contact because his eyes kept dropping lower, taking in the sight of all that flesh in front of him.  The button of Sam’s jeans was undone and the zipper traveled slowly, Dean’s mouth practically watering at the sound. 

 

Something about the way he was watching him must have been good for Sam because then the jeans were off and pushed away along with his underwear and Sam was standing in front of Dean, completely naked.  He leaned over as Dean leaned back, letting his arms take his weight as Sam brought his lips to Dean’s ear. 

 

He was practically panting and god if that wasn’t the sexiest sound Dean had ever heard.  “What else do you want to watch?”  Sam said, dipping his head into the hollow of Dean’s throat, sucking lightly before turning to lick his way across Dean’s collarbone.  Dean moaned as Sam worked his way lower, his tongue licking across Dean’s nipples before his teeth caught the flesh and bit down.  His body bucked up into Sam, feeling more tightly strung than he ever had. 

 

Sam chuckled as he licked again, moving across Dean’s chest to pay attention to the neglected nipple as well.  As he did so, he reached his hand up, into Dean’s hair, running his fingers through the short bristles.  His hand slid to Dean’s cheek and then down to his neck, fingers playing lightly over the skin as he moved. 

 

Dean felt fire lighting his veins where Sam touched and it was almost too much to take in.  There was the soft scratch of nails across his chest and then down to his stomach where it became harder and sharper leaving red marks where Sam touched.  Sam’s lips were on his again suddenly and as their tongues met, he felt Sam pulling the button of his jeans loose.  The zipper followed quickly and then Sam’s hand was under the waistband of his boxers.  He pulled away as he reached down with both hands to pull the rest of Dean’s clothes off. 

 

Sam threw Dean’s clothes into a pile where his own lay, then stood letting his eyes take in the sight of Dean.  He’d never felt this naked before, this open to anything before and he felt it was fitting that it was for Sam.  Sam’s eyes were taking too long though and even if Dean had been fighting this, now that he’d given in he wanted it all.

 

“Sammy.”  His voice was low and Sam smiled as if he understood the order than it was.  Sam dropped to his knees in front of Dean then and pushed his legs further apart as he leaned closer.  His fingers slid up Dean’s inner thigh and Sam watched his own progress across the flesh he’d marked in dreams but never touched like this.  He leaned over and touched his lips to the inside of Dean’s knee, let his tongue out to play across the same trail his hands had blazed.  When he reached the top of his thigh Sam looked up and smiled at Dean before bending his head into the V of Dean’s legs.  He wanted to fall back and let the sensation take him over, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Sam.

 

He felt the first touch of tongue against his balls and moaned.  “Jesus Sammy” He tried to keep the words back but couldn’t control his tongue.  He never could when sex was involved and he had no doubt about what was going to happen now. 

 

Sam licked at him, small circles that pressed into him and left his body shaking with need.  He felt Sam shift slightly and then that tongue was traveling up his cock, leaving a path of wet skin and shivers.  When he reached the head, he licked lightly, then opened his mouth around his brother and slid his lips down.  “Yeah Sam.” He said, clenching his eyes closed and fists in the blankets to keep from grabbing at Sam’s hair and fucking up into him. 

 

A low moan came from Sam as he slid his mouth up, letting his tongue press on the underside of him.  His hand came up to the base of his cock and he stroked as he licked and sucked.  Those lips disappeared then and when Dean opened his eyes Sam was smiling up at him.  “Do it Dean.”  He said in a voice like molasses.  “Want to feel you fucking my mouth.”

 

He didn’t wait for a response, just bent his head again and licked his lips before swallowing Dean again.  Dean’s eyes were drawn to Sam, drawn to the image of those lips wrapped around him, to the sight of his own body getting lost inside his brother’s.  His hand moved of it’s own will and he had his fingers full of Sam’s hair as he pulled slightly, feeling Sam moving under his touch.  It was too much and with Sam’s words he couldn’t control it anymore.  His hips pushed up into Sam’s mouth, feeling welcomed with warmth and heat.  “Open up baby.”  He said, biting his lip to keep anything else from coming out.  He wanted to tell Sam to take it all, take him whole and keep sucking until he came down this throat, but Sam was doing it all anyway.

 

He was about to explode, could feel it building and knew if he didn’t stop it he would be spilling into Sam and he didn’t want that just yet.  He pulled at Sam’s hair, pulling his brother off his cock and up his body to his lips. 

 

Sam did what he was told and they stayed like that for a few minutes, tasting and testing each other before Sam pulled slightly away, breathing heavy.  “Dean”

 

He cut Sam off with another kiss, then bit down hard on Sam’s neck, licking and sucking.  “Gonna fuck you Sammy.”  He said into his brother’s skin and he felt the moan through his lips.  “Gonna open you up and fuck you so good you’re never gonna look at anyone else.”

 

“Just yours Dean, always yours.”  Sam moaned as Dean flipped him onto his back.

 

Sam’s eyes stayed on Dean as he got out of bed, grabbing the lube from his bag.  He settled on the bed between Sam’s legs and opened the bottle, coating his fingers up good.  He didn’t ask Sam if he’d done this before, too afraid of the darkness in those eyes that he thought he’d see.  Instead he ran his finger down his brother’s balls and to the spot that waited a little further down.  He let his finger massage in a gentle circle as he leaned up, letting him reach his brother and kiss him as he pressed the finger in.

 

Sam groaned into his mouth and Dean thought he could come just from the sound of it.  He pulled his finger almost all the way out and then back in, beginning a rhythm that would loosen and stretch his brother.  Sam was pushing back against his finger quick enough though and Dean slid and second and third finger in before long.  Good thing too because he was losing himself in this feeling, in the soft deep kiss and the way Sam felt writhing underneath him. 

 

When he thought Sam was ready he pulled his fingers free.  Sam gasped at the sudden emptiness and Dean smiled, pressing their foreheads together.  “You ready for me Sam?”

 

“God yes Dean, please, need you, need more.”

 

Dean lifted up and settled back onto his knees, pulling Sam up until his hips were resting slightly on his legs, tilted up just where Dean wanted him.  He didn’t tease, didn’t torment and test his brother’s limits, just found the right position and pushed in slow and steady as Sam’s body gave way underneath him.  “Sam…  ” He was breathless from the need to push in hard and fast, to find the rhythm they both needed but he had to wait it out until Sam was ready.  “So goddamn hot Sammy, wanna fuck you hard and high and watch you spill all over yourself, want to see it in your eyes when I come inside you.”

 

Sam closed his eyes at that, but as his fingers clenched into the blankets he used it to get a little leverage and pushed back against Dean’s cock, burying him the rest of the way inside.  Dean moaned at the feel of his balls against the skin of Sam’s ass, at the tight heat he’d never expected to feel.

 

“Move Dean please, need to feel it”

 

And Dean obeyed.  He found a steady rhythm quick enough; their rhythm has always been good whether it was banter or walking side by side or on the hunt.  This was just a new rhythm to figure out.  It wasn’t long though before he felt the pressure building again.  He reached between them, taking Sam’s cock in his hand for the first time since it had all started.  Sam gasped and Dean laughed breathlessly as he began stroking his little brother in time to his thrusts.

 

When Sam came it was with a buck of the hips and Dean’s name on his lips, which Dean captured as soon as it started.  His stomach and chest felt the hot splash of come and between that and the clenching of Sam around his cock, his own orgasm hit.

 

He pulled back far enough to watch Sam, to stare into those eyes as they came together, hot and panting, covered in sweat and semen and sin so deep he was buried alive in it.  Sam smiled up at him as it passed and Dean had to smile back.

 

No matter what happened, he had Sam.  Nothing else mattered.  They’d do what they had to, he’d do what he had to, to keep Sam from the demons.  They’d find a way to do it right, without killing, and Sam would have Dean to wrap himself around instead of back alley strangers who didn’t care a thing about him.  He’d have to stay away from John for a while but it wasn’t like their father was trying to make himself available all that much anyway.  Bobby would help them out.  Bobby had been as close to him as John, closer in a lot of ways since he’d reached the late teens and started working more and more on his own. 

 

He pulled out of Sam, seeing the look of pain and hunger that passed through Sam’s eyes as he did so.  He lay down beside him and pulled him into his arms.  Sam didn’t resist, but shuffled a little until he was lying with his head on Dean’s chest, sheltered in his arms.  “Love you Dean.”  The words were whispered into his skin with lips that burned into him.

 

Dean tightened his arms around his brother and kissed the top of his head.  “I love you too Sam.”  He didn’t know what they meant by those words, wasn’t sure either of them were capable of the L word to the degree that most people knew them.  Love was supposed to be selfless and putting someone else above you.  They certainly put one another before others, but was it selflessness or selfishness that had Sam in his arms tonight?  He didn’t know.  It was enough to know that he did love Sam and that Sam did love him in whatever manner they could.

 

“Still me and you, right?  Against everything else.”

 

Dean laughed, then smacked the back of Sam’s head.  “Of course bitch.  That’s what big brothers are for right?  To get their kid brothers out of trouble.’

 

“Jerk.”  Sam said, but he could feel the smile against his neck and the lick of a tongue swiping across skin. 

 

“No more killing Sam.  We’ll find another way.  We’ll go see Bobby and find another way.  Promise me.”

 

Dean pulled his face away from him and made Sam look up.  Something dark passes behind his brother’s eyes but Sam just nodded.  “Ok Dean.  I have some time before this one wears off.  We’ll find another way.”

 

It wasn’t until Sam had long fallen asleep that Dean realized Sam hadn’t exactly promised him anything.

 


	8. I Will Sacrifice

Pain exploded everywhere and sound seemed to bleed from his ears, as if the rush of air that had pressed him back against the wall was beating it out of him.  His eyes were closed against the rush of blood that spilled down from the cut at the edge of his forehead and even as he tried to struggle against the invisible bonds he knew it was no use.  He opened his eyes then, forcing himself to look through the red haze.  The Demon had him pressed against the wall, yellow eyes staring back at him from John’s face.  The smile was what he might once have called tender but it had been too long since he’d seen that emotion from John so he wasn’t really sure.  He heard a grunt from the side and shifted his eyes enough to see Bobby Singer pressed to another wall.

 

Damn, John should never have called Bobby into this.  The man was as close to family as they had and Dean had argued his inclusion as soon as John had mentioned him.  Not that he wasn’t capable, but because if something happened to them, at least Bobby would be able to continue the fight.  He knew the truth about Azazel, the children he had manipulated, and even if they didn’t know why, he understood that he had to be stopped.  He’d have seen it through if they didn’t survive this.  And someone was going to die today, no way around that.  Whether they got Yellow Eyes or he got them, it had to stop now.  He couldn’t keep it going any longer.  The wear and tear on Sam was too much. 

 

His eyes searched Sam out and something loosened inside him.  Sam was standing across from Azazel, hate blazing in his eyes, his hands clenched in fists at his side.  Azazel saw his gaze and smiled before looking over at Sam.

 

“Really good stock.”  He said with a leer directed back at Dean.  “If I’d have known how well you’d both turned out I might have made an exception with Dean-o.  Might have taken you both with me that day.”

 

Sam took a heavy step forward but the demon’s hands rose.  “Just saying maybe I would have had an easier time if your brother was nearby all that time.”  He shrugged.  “Well, maybe not.  He always had too strong an influence on you.”

 

The demon moved over to Dean and stood in front of him, John’s face taunting him.  “It was easy enough to get him to hate John; all those years of being left behind and not being as good as his big brother, never enough to warrant any real affection, those were easy to play on.  Easier to get him to hate John because of the way he forced you to look after your little brother, made you give up all the things Sam was already beginning to want.  But getting him to hate you Dean-o…”  He shook his head and turned his back, looking over at Sam.  “Never could get him to hate you.  You were his hero, his warrior and protector, his big brother.”

 

The demon turned back to him.  “For a bit there, I thought I was going to have to kill him.  He wouldn’t turn.  There was nothing he hated enough to make that happen.  I thought I’d left him with you for to long.  I knew you were the key though.  You were always the key to Sam, I just had to figure out how to unlock that.  And then it hit, one day, right out of the blue.  No, I couldn’t make Sam hate you.”  He ran his fingers down Dean’s face, let his thumb rub across Dean’s lower lip as he leaned to whisper in his ear.  “I could make him love you though in ways you would hate him for.”

 

“Stop it!”  Sam yelled from across the room. 

 

Dean looked and for the first time saw the concentration in the younger man’s face.  He saw the sweat beading across his forehead and the way his fingers tensed and relaxed, how he seemed to be about to move forward but never quite did.  He could tell Sam was fighting something but there was no way to see what it was.

 

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about there Sammy.”  Azazel said with a smile.  “Big brother likes fucking into you far too much to let this get in his way.  No, he can handle the truth.  Not sure how well Bobby and John are going to take it though.  Dean has a right to know it all though, don’t you think Sammy?  My golden boy?”  He looked at Dean again. 

 

“Thing is, Sammy was always the strongest.  He fought it the hardest, always remembering what you’d taught him, but the fact that he could fight so strong was fascinating to me.  And then, I figured out how to break him.  Oh, I suppose you could say I didn’t break him completely, but I bent him to my will, made him a killer and a thing worthy of being hunted.  It was small going, but when he did something well a frown and a whispered ‘too much like his brother’ always went a long way.  Come back a week later and that one target of ten he could hit turned into ten out of ten.  The bully no one else could take down became afraid of Sammy because he’d learned to use his smaller frame as a weapon.  When he grew he used his speed and reach.  He learned the way you taught him to Dean.  And because he loved you, he always tried to make you proud.”

 

The demon laughed.  “Of course we knew we were corrupting your poor little brother, knew that when he went to sleep at night we were turning those innocent dreams of companionable back slaps into something a bit more… well… pornographic would be about right.  But then Sammy disappeared on me altogether and I knew where he’d gone.  He was hiding you from me though and it turned out I was right all those long years ago.  I should have killed you because you always held the key to Sam.”

 

“No!”  Sam screamed and took a step forward.

 

The demon looked back at him.  “Time for a deal Sammy?”  He asked.  “All those people you keep killing to keep me off your back?  All those nights of letting your brother wrap you up in incestuous arms?  You think you can walk away from me and still get away?  Think your soul won’t end up in hell where it belongs in the long run?”  He smiled warmly with John’s face.  “I’ll give you this though.  Stop this running, stop fighting it.  Come with me, take your place by my side and I’ll let you have Dean.”

 

“And Dad and Bobby?”

 

“I can be generous Sammy.  I’ll let you have Bobby and John, when I’m done with this body of course.”  He winked.

 

Sam took a deep breath and looked at Dean.  Something passed between them though and the demon slashed out at Dean, pain lancing through his chest as he felt blood draining down his torso into his jeans.

 

“Oh Sammy.  You’d have ruled in hell.  They call you the Boy-King you know.”

 

“You can offer me anything you want Azazel, but you can never give me Dean.  He isn’t yours to give.”

 

“I can make him your slave.”

 

“I’d rather see him dead, rather see them all dead.”

 

“That can be arranged Sammy.”

 

Bobby and Dean screamed at the same time as the shot rang out.  Sam’s fight with the demon’s control won out and he’d grabbed the colt and fired into John’s chest, killing the demon once and for all. 

 

Bobby and Dean dropped to the floor but Sam was moving to John already, hands pressing on the wound to try to stop the flow of blood.  “Dad?  Come on Dad, hang in there.  I can keep it under control long enough to get you help, alright?  Just hang in there!”

 

Dean was moving sluggish but Bobby, though older, had been hit with far less since Azazel’s anger was directed at him.  He was at John’s side and helping Sam scoop him up and get him in the truck.  Dean followed at a slower pace, but when Sam came back to help he pulled away from his brother’s touch. 

 

Sam looked hurt, but Dean couldn’t deal with it just then, couldn’t deal with the demon’s words and the fear that he’d lost his father in more ways than one.  It was too much and he was in too much pain to care about anyone else’s. 

 

When he got in the car he felt the world start to black out and his last thought was it was about time something went his way.

 

 

 

The hospital staff was kind enough and they let Sam and Bobby run between rooms as often and as late as they wanted.  Dean was still in the ICU but John had pulled through the removal of the bullet and was doing steadily better.  Bobby whispered to Dean about Sam and what he might have done to help that along, mostly thinking Sam had somehow managed to stop the bleeding at the site of the wound until he’d gotten here. 

 

Bobby had to get some stitches but he said it wasn’t the worst he’d ever received.  A few hours waiting and then he was off and running after his friends.  Sam hadn’t had any wounds that they could tell and Dean knew that if anything had happened to Sam it was all internal.  As much as his own body hurt he wasn’t sure most of his wasn’t also.  He’d managed to get an infection after they’d cleaned him up and stitched him closed.  He seemed to have no strength and no real desire to eat.  He didn’t want to get better.  As much as he hated hospitals, what he wanted right now was to lie in bed and pretend to sleep so he wouldn’t have to deal with any of this.

 

Yes, the Yellow Eyed Demon that had torn his family apart so many years ago was dead.  Sam was free of it’s scheming and their mother’s death was avenged.  But were they any better off now?  After the fire, all Dean could remember was trying to keep his family together.  When Sam was there he’d tried to make sure his little brother and father had been taken care of, that they’d all been safe and fed and warm and loved.  When Sam was taken they’d fallen apart a bit, but Dean had needed John in those days and even as he’d gotten older they’d still come to one another for help.

 

Now?  Sam had brought them together and forced a wedge at the same time.  He’d seen and talked to John more than he had since he’d started hunting on his own, but his faith in Sam and absolute trust in him had been a sore spot between him and the older Winchester.  He wasn’t sure what his father would think now.  No.  He knew what his father would think, only it wasn’t Sam’s fault and Dean knew that no matter what the demon had made Sam feel, his desires were his own.  John wouldn’t see it that way, would think Sam was doing something to him.  The same way he thought there was something inherently evil in Sam since he’d come back from hell.  It didn’t matter that he hadn’t known about their relationship or the deaths.  John had made assumptions and their family had taken the beating for it.

 

He heard the door open and turned over, closing his eyes against the face of his lover.  He couldn’t stand to see Sam so hopeless and despondent but there wasn’t anything in him that could reach out right now.  Sam didn’t say anything when he came to visit, just sat there until Bobby showed up at the door.  Bobby was the one that told him about Sam and John’s fights.  Told him about Sam’s confession of killing people to keep the demons off his trail and to keep Dean safe.  Told him Sam believed he loved Dean and that Dean loved him and that brother didn’t mean more or less than that.  Told him that John took Dean’s silence as proof that love was one sided, that Sam was beginning to doubt and that Dean wouldn’t speak because he couldn’t face them now that he knew the extent of Sam’s brainwashing and the depths of the evil he’d done to survive long enough to get to his brother.

 

It wasn’t true.  He still had no idea what Sam had done.  He knew he’d been used against his brother and that hurt, that the example of the big brother who was always trying to do the right thing, to hold his family together, the soldier, the warrior, the good son, that all of it had been twisted in Sam’s mind to make him be more of what the demon wanted hit like a blast from the colt and he’d never felt anything go deeper. 

 

Bobby looked at him differently now though there was still concern.  It was what made Dean turn from Bobby’s face as well.  He knew concern and he could read pity there also now.  Pity and perhaps a hint of disgust as well.  He was just glad that John wasn’t able to come up and yell at him just yet.  He was sure that would be a doozey of a fight.  If he could get the energy to respond.

 

He felt someone take his hands and he’d forgotten Sam was there.  He looked up and Sam was right there, his face lowered to brush a kiss against Dean’s forehead.

 

“It’s OK Dean.  I remember when we were younger, how you wouldn’t talk after Mom’s death.  Well, I remember hearing about it.  I was still a baby.  But if you need time to get this all through your head then so be it.  I’m not going anywhere, not unless you tell me to and maybe not even then.  No matter what you’re still my big brother and I’m not leaving you.  I worked too damn hard to get out of hell to just leave.  If you don’t…”  His voice broke a little and Dean almost wanted to reach out, but he still couldn’t.  “If things need to change, I can be whatever you need Dean, I swear it.  What he said... Azazel” he whispered the name as if it would lessen what had happened.  “I know it was real.  I know he manipulated me, the way I saw you, and I knew it was happening but you were all I had to hold onto Dean.”

 

Sam took one of Dean’s hands in his and held on as he talked.  “I don’t know what else to say or do Dean, not without you.  Dad… you know him better than I do Dean.  I don’t know how to get through to him or even if I should keep trying.  Azazel wanted me to hate him and I do Dean.  Parts of me hate him for everything he’s ever done to you, to the things he never let us have, but part of me knows it’s all askew.  I know that he did what he could Dean.  And I know he could have had me killed when I first came back, that plenty of hunters would have come running if he’d said the word.  I know he was waiting on me to see what I did, no matter that I’d been raised in hell by a demon.  And I knew that was because he loved me even if he did do all the wrong things.”

 

Dean didn’t answer.  He didn’t look at Sam or try to pull his hand away.  He just sat listening because there was nothing else he could do.  Sam loved him and Dad loved him and hell Bobby loved him in his way, but he was losing everything again and he didn’t think he had the strength to keep it all together. 

 

How was he supposed to chose?  Which part of his life did he give up and which part did he decide was worth fighting for?  Why was it always his choice to make? 

 

He didn’t notice when Bobby came and Sam left.  He didn’t notice that Sam didn’t come back that day, or the next.  He barely noticed when they moved him out of the ICU and into the bed next to his father.  He never heard the lectures or saw the concerned stares of the two men who watched over him.  The endless cycle of loss in his life just replayed itself over and over in his head, making him look at the choices he’d made and second guessing every one.     
  



	9. All

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

 

“And leaving him here like this is?  It’s been two months and you’re way isn’t doing anything for him.”

 

“You think I don’t know why you want to get him alone!”

 

“Stop it!  Both of you!”  Bobby pushed into the middle of the two men, trying to stop the line that was being drawn between them.  “What isn’t good is all this arguing about it.”

 

Sam was seething and Dean was watching it all from the sidelines like he had been since the demon had been killed.  Sam and John, always battling for the right to Dean.  It was mostly Sam who’d taken care of him with John still not 100%, but Bobby had done almost as much just keeping the two of them from ripping each other apart.  Would it have been the same if Sam had been with them all those years? 

 

“John, you really think Sam would try to do something to Dean in this condition?  Something that would hurt him?”

 

“Apparently my definition of hurting Dean is different than anyone else’s around here.”

 

Bobby looked pissed and Dean understood why.  Bobby didn’t understand this thing with Sam and Dean anymore than John did but he didn’t put all the blame for it on Sam and he recognized that Sam loved him even if he did think it was wrong.  “Don’t be an idjit John!  That boy would die before he’d hurt Dean and you know it.”

 

John scowled and it was an agreement of sorts but it wasn’t enough to appease Sam who’d been fighting this battle on his own for two months.  “I wouldn’t do anything like that Dad.  Damn it, what do you think I am?  If I wanted to force something I could have made a deal and you know it!  I never wanted anything like that, never wanted to be anything other than what Dean wanted me to be.  I didn’t make him do anything and you’d better get it through your thick skull!”

 

“Then why do you want to take him off on your own?”

 

“Because sitting in one place isn’t doing anything.  Hell, you know him Dad, he hates being still!  I was just going to take him a day’s ride out and back tomorrow.  I know he’s not well enough to travel much but it’s better than doing nothing. I…” his voice broke and Dean felt something in him soften slightly.  “I can’t just wait around Dad.  I hate seeing him like this.  I just need to try.  Maybe it won’t do anything, but at least we’ll have tried.”

 

 

An hour later he found himself in the passenger seat of the Impala, his bag packed and Sam promising to call John as soon as they got settled that night.  John didn’t look entirely happy but Bobby seemed relieved.  Sam just looked determined to get them out of there before John changed his mind and started yelling again. 

 

 

 

It was another small town, like any other they’d passed through since they’d met up again.  There was nothing that made it stand out, small streets, a church and gas station on the main drive with a convenient store and diner down the block.  Their motel was the Starlight Inn and Sam led Dean gently into the room, one hand on his elbow and the other wrapped around to his shoulder to move him forward. 

 

Sam took a deep breath as Dean lay back on the celestial themed bedspread, then went out to unload their bags.  It wasn’t true dark out yet and Sam dumped everything behind the bed Dean was on before salting the door and windows just in case.  Dean watched in silence, his eyes registering his brother’s movements, but still not able to bring himself around enough to do anything.  He walked where they told him to, ate when something was put in front of him, but not much else. 

 

“Still a little time before dinner.  Think I’ll hit the shower before we go.”  He sat on the bed beside Dean, one hand touching his cheek lightly, gentler than he’d allowed himself to touch since that night.  “Need anything Dean?”  He didn’t answer and Sam nodded.  “Right.  I’ll take a shower then we’ll head over and get something to eat.  Bet you’re starving for some deep fried grease about right now.”

 

Dean didn’t respond when Sam left, but as the bathroom door closed he raised a hand to the spot his brother’s fingers had rested.  He closed his eyes and tried to remember what it was that made him willing to start the fight over again but he couldn’t.  For a moment, just a single moment, he’d almost had it.

 

The water running in the next room was soothing and he was almost asleep before it turned off.  He was in that warm stage of almost-dream and when the bathroom door opened there was a billow of steam that preceded his little brother.  Sam came out with his towel wrapped around his waist and Dean let his eyes travel the length of his body.  Sam didn’t notice as he sat on the edge of the bed, trying to find his clean things.

 

“I’m out of practice dude.”  Sam was saying as he rummaged through.  “Two months off the road and I’ve forgotten how to pack.”

 

He stopped his rummaging abruptly when he felt Dean’s hand on his back.  His spine straightened and the muscles tensed as he turned his head to see Dean looking at him.  “Dean?”  There was too much emotion in that one word that he didn’t know how to answer it.  Instead he asked a question of his own.

 

“Why do you fight with him?”  He asked, his voice gritty from lack of use. 

 

Sam looked confused for a minute and almost pissed, but then he shrugged.  “What should I do Dean?  Just accept everything the way he wants it?  I didn’t bow down to Azazel and I won’t bow down to Dad either.  I… I love you Dean and that’s all that matters to me.  If you want a little brother, that’s what I’ll be.  If you want…” he was faltering for the right words but Dean didn’t interrupt.  “More… if you want us to be more, to have what we had before, then that’s what you get.  It’s what I want Dean, but I’ll take anything I can.  I just… this is between you and me, not them.”  He let his hand reach out then and cup Dean’s cheek.  “If you don’t want this... I’m not saying I won’t try to remind you it was good,” he said, a small smile appearing for a second, “but I’ll respect your wishes.  But Dad and Bobby?  I fought my way out of hell for you Dean and if you tell me you want this, there is no one I won’t fight tooth and nail.”

 

Dean took a deep breath, eyes widening at the thought of it, of someone fighting for him, over him, fighting to keep him.  Before he knew what he was going to do, his hand was pulling Sam close into a fierce kiss. 

 

They’d have hell to pay eventually.  John wasn’t going to accept this easily, if ever, and Bobby would take some work.  They’d manage though.  They had to because as hard as Dean had fought to keep his family together there was finally someone willing to fight for him, to fight with him and he’d be damned before he’d let that slip away.

 

In the end, it was the same as it had been since the day Sam had been born.  Sitting on his father’s lap, he’d been given his little brother for the first time.  “Brothers.”  His father had said, smiling with those red eyes that meant he’d been crying and Dean had been young enough to believe that his father’s tears could be happy ones.  “You take care of one another from now on.  You help each other and watch each other’s backs.  You’ll use each other’s strengths and back up each other’s weaknesses.  You take care of your brother and in the end, nothing can stand between you boys.”

 

Dean thought he was right about that.  They were who they were and they were everything to each other and nothing could stop that.  All and nothing.    


End file.
